She trembled at the sight of it, as everything beyond fell away, shrouded by mist and distance. It was as if she stood at the edge of the living world, opening upon the vague and endless sea of Death's Kingdom. Her one desire was to turn and flee, back to the world of daylight and living flesh. And yet she must not only force herself to look upon it, but pass beyond, and standing in its far shadow, to call upon the very darkness from which her spirit palled. She stood motionless, her resolve wavering before the onslaught of doubts and questions. Was she doing the right thing? Might her actions not only do them both further injury? These thoughts interlaced with a raw, gut-level fear for her own safety. Yet strong as these forebodings were, there lived inside her something stronger: the love of a single man. The thought of Michael alone and in pain, was more than she could bear. She took the final steps, and stood on the sloping ground just beyond..... It. The ravine opened before her, its steep sides leading down to the flatted heath below: a narrow vale of silvered grass, withered shrubs and speckled stone, here and there marked by solitary trees which rose up from the wreathing fog like pillars in a flood. The same fitful breeze which had carried it from the sea beyond, moved the vapory shroud across the scene in ghostly patterns: here and again clearing an open stage, only to wrap it once more in its cloak of white invisibility. But this she took in with her eyes only. More acutely than any other sense, she felt the Stone behind her, a glowering menace, an evil force aware of her presence. She steeled herself to turn and face it. Then braving its deepest shadows, she wedged the torch between it and a smaller stone, half crushed beneath. And with this action, thrusting stubborn light into a place of darkness, she found the courage needed to perform the grim task ahead. Kneeling in the dank ground with her back against the Stone, she shook off the cold shudder that ran through her at its touch, and opened the book before her, turning to the ribbon-marked page. Holding his image ever before her, she began to read aloud the chant. The words came haltingly at first, unwilling, then stronger, slowly taking hold of her until it seemed another, far older woman spoke through her: that she did not need her eyes to recall the words or sound their meaning. The voice rose and fell. By the Standing Stone, as dry as bone Through ancient tales to walk alone By moonlight stark, to spirits dark We call to You Their way be shown. Back from the land, of withered hand To islands where the living stand With arms apart, and naked heart This spell to Thee I do command. Send spirit forth, by dark stream's course If Hell itself should be the source Let Cerberus' gate, not hold his fate But shatter walls With killing force.